


Aehallh

by tristesses



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/pseuds/tristesses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She should have known better than to put faith in a Vulcan. Mandana, during annihilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aehallh

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 12/7/2009. The title (as found on [this site](http://tshala.tripod.com/rom-dict.html)) is a Romulan word meaning nightmare, monster, or ghost; it's also defined as the image or idea of a person, as opposed to their true self. This fic is very much influenced by Diane Duane's Rihannsu novels.

The crowd is loud and violent, pulling and tearing at clothes and skin in an effort to reach the front steps of the Senate, terror and despair curdling slow and hot under their skin. The Praetorian Guard stands with weapons in hand, ceremonial swords bared and glittering, phasers loose on their belts. Some are stony-faced, while others openly mock the spectators, a thin veneer of bravado to hide the fear beneath. As she struggles to remain on her feet, Mandana is shoved by the mass of people behind her and knocks into the guard in front of her; he flings her away from him with a snarl, as if she's tainted him with her touch. Hissing curses in response, she curves her hand around her stomach. It's far too early in the pregnancy, but she thinks her child kicks in protest.

Inside the Senate stands the backbone of the Rihannsu government: praetors, senators, and the Emperor himself, all slime-bellied cowards, groveling at a Vulcan's feet. Mandana does not think much of this Ambassador Spock's ability to rescue them from their sun; if the Elements choose to doom them all, who are they to flee from it? Better to stay and accept death with honor than go running to their cold-hearted cousins. But then - and here Mandana struggles - is it not honorable to save the species, even if it means debasing themselves before the Federation and the Vulcans like their ancestors swore they would never do? That is Nero's view on it, and she understands his arguments, but she is stubborn. She has her own opinions, and she does not change them lightly.

Again the crowd surges, and Mandana is jolted from her reverie, stumbling slightly. The Ambassador has exited the Senate, accompanied by Senator Avrek, who strides to the podium at the top of the stairs, speaking into the voice amplifiers. Traditional greetings, invocations to the Great Brothers; Mandana tunes them out, and focuses on the Ambassador, standing calmly at the senator's side. Spock is old, his face withered, but from this close distance she can see that his eyes are bright and observant, his body still strong. He isn't paying any attention to the senator's words; his eyes roam the crowd, his expression thoughtful. They catch on Mandana, who lifts her head and stares back. She's no praetor, merely a midwife, the mate of a miner, but she will not allow this Vulcan to intimidate her.

Mandana isn't positive, but as the senator reassures the public that they will all be saved by this man's genius, she thinks Spock nods at her in acknowledgement. His gesture is neutral, carefully modulated, but she senses a promise in it.

It is not kept.

 ****

. . .

Mandana burns. Her skin isn't blistering, not yet, but the radiation from the oncoming nova has left her blind, has left her ears ringing with high-pitched screams that are partly her mind's creation and partly the sound of her people dying as her world cracks and crumbles beneath her. The Elements, angered. In the central square of Ki Baratan, the Senate building is crashing to the ground, and the houses of the praetors around it fracture and break. They have locked themselves inside, tight within their stone castles - as if clinging to the trappings of their noble caste will save them now! - except for Senator t'Rllaillieu, who has flung her doors open and invited even the lowest echelon of society within her familial shrine. As if the Brothers will give them aid!

Mandana laughs, and laughs, and clutches her belly. Oh, but this is what they deserve, having gone crawling to Spock like wounded _thrai_ , begging and pleading - ignore the gods, and they will ignore you.

"What honor is this?" she cries out, and someone screams in response - "Ch'Havran! Ch'Havran, O Elements, the sky - "

Mandana can almost feel the world shake as the nova annihilates their sister planet, once hung low in their sky; her skin begins to sear; her ears fail, and she falls to her knees in silence hollower than she's ever known, scrabbling in the dirt. Her infant is still and quiet in her stomach, and she wonders abstractly if Nero will tattoo his mourning paint into his skin as is familial tradition when a child is murdered. She hopes he will take revenge - burn Spock like she burns. O Elements! She digs her fingers into the soil, her eyes blister and pop, and hate boils, it burns deep within her. She must maintain honor; she cannot beg. She prays for death.

She does not have to wait long.


End file.
